Another Morning in Gryffindor Tower
by The Almighty Bonk
Summary: Harry wakes up to a redheaded surprise. M for a reason, folks. Slash Hp/Rw. One shot.


"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"You're in my bed again, Ron."

"Mhm."

Harry's mouth went diagonal. "Everyone is going to be waking up Ron, and I'd prefer it if they didn't wake up to this."

Ron was indeed in Harry's fourposter. He had entered it sometime in the night, and Harry himself did not notice until he had woken up to the lanky boy wrapped around him like a crimson python. The curtains were drawn, but see-through enough to make out to shapes in the bed, one raven haired, the other a redhead.

Harry gave Ron a tiny push away, and Ron retaliated by sliding his hands under Harry's pajama top and pulling himself back. Ron's hands were, to use the medical term, as cold as fucking ice. Harry couldn't help himself as he yelped at the top of his lungs. Ron gave a sadistically satisfied grin. He had yet to open his eyes. Harry writhed a bit as Ron ran his hands up and down his back. Everywhere his icicle fingers touched, Harry's back tensed. It was some time before he noticed that everyone else was starting to wake up, stirred from sleep by his own yelp.

Harry finally realized that everyone else was starting to pull back their gauzy curtains, and he would soon be found out. With all his might, he shoved Ron under the covers where he would be hidden by all the folds and mess of the queen sized bedding, The comforter was thick enough that the lump of Ron was completely unnoticeable.

"Hey Harry, you alright?" asked Dead as he disentangled himself from his own bedding. "Thought I head that girly scream of yours."

Harry's face turned bright red and he struck out at Ron with his foot, completely missing. The redhead was sneaking through his covers like some evil mole with a dastardly plot. "I just had a nightmare," said Harry, trying to aim another kick at Ron as he strayed too close.

"Another one?" asked Nevile as he pulled off his pajamas and got dressed for the day.

"At least it isn't the middle of the bleeding night again," muttered Seamus.

"Will you guys give it a REST?" Harry had tried for vindictive and hurt, but Ron had finally gotten him by the ankles and his ice cold digits were playing an evil tune somewhere in the vicinity of his navel. On the word 'Rest' his voice had gone high-pitched and cracked.

"Problems, Harry?" asked Nevil, cocking an eyebrow.

"Just... got... a... chill," said Harry, kicking out at Ron as punctuation for every word.

"You're acting rather odd," said Seamus shrewdly.

"Am not," argued Harry shortly. Ron's ministrations, as cold as they might be, were having a warming effect on him, and he was becoming laconic as a result.

"Say," said Dean, looking over to Ron's empty fourposter. "Where'd Ron go?"

"Probably getting, you know, a bite to eat,"said Harry as he wrestled with Ron under the covers. The be-freckled boy was doing all he could to subtract clothing from the Harry equation. Harry grabbed the elastic of his underwear, already unable to save his pajama bottoms.

Suddenly, Ron's attack abated. Harry resisted looking under the covers to see what was going on. He didn't need to. He had found out why Ron was no longer trying to drag off his boxers. By grabbing and protecting them at the waistband, he had left open the hole in the middle. The button was undone before he could swat the hand away. Next thing he knew, he felt imperiused. He was floating, he definitely was. If Ron's hands were ice, his mouth was fire. Deliciously warm, wet fire.

"Well let's go before he gobbles it all down," said Dean, getting dressed much faster.

"_Too late,_" thought Harry in total bliss.

"Coming, Harry?" asked Nevile as they trooped out the door.

"Later," Harry said. "I'll catch up later."

"Suit yourself, we'll try and save you something but don't keep your hopes up. You know how Ron gets when he sets his eyes one something."

Harry nodded complacently.

At last the others left, leaving Harry to discover Ron from under the covers. Ron did have a voracious apatite, as evidenced by his long nose half buried in Harry's hairless pubic bone. He shuddered as the cool morning air washed against his legs,and he pulled Ron up, the redhead reluctantly dropping the task at hand. Harry shivered as his wet manhood came into contact with the cool air, but he soon had Ron as a blanket. The taller boy pressed and molded himself to fit Harry perfectly. He ate like a vacuum and was as thing as a string bean. He often joked that it was his 'High Protein Diet' that gave him his figure, and he would often finish this off by adding a wink in Harry's direction.

Harry, a full five inches shorter and at least that many inches more broad, had much more muscle. Years of Seeking for the Gryffindor Quiddich team had helped with that. Turning a broom wasn't as easy as it looked, you had to throw a lot of your weight into it. Harry often simplified this explanation into "From riding so much,"when asked about his physique, then throwing Ron a returning wink.

As mornings go, Harry Potter was not having the worst of his life. He was wrapped around Ronald Weasley. There was something of desperation in both sides as they kissed and mashed their bodies together. Harry pulled Ron's already unbuttoned Pajama top from his lean body, and ran his hands up the redheads stomach and chest. While one hand went up, the other stayed back down to tease the hairs growing from Ron's belly button to his waistband.

Ron whined and bucked his hips, slipping Harry's finger tips under the lip of his pajama bottoms. Harry grinned into the kiss and replied by sliding his hand down past the elastic, to find Ron's erection. While Harry shaved himself completely (Mainly for effect, though he joked to Ron it was all about aerodynamics) Ron left himself natural, and the tuft of red hair was Harry's favorite playground.

After awhile, his teases turned to touches, which turned to strokes. Ron shook like a leaf on top of him, and he pulled his pants down himself. Kicking them down he left himself completely nude. Harry's boxers were gone without another thought. The drying saliva on his shaft smeared against Ron somewhat and Harry grinned. "Just look at that mess. You had better clean it up.

Obediently, Ron kissed his way back down Harry's chest and stomach.

"Who's going to clean you up, though?" asked Harry, grinning wider and stopping Ron. Ron got the hint and swung around so that he was facing Harry's feet. He kissed the tip of Harry's pole and grinned to himself as the raven headed boy's toes curled in satisfaction. He started sucking one more time, then his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. Harry was no sub, that much Ron knew, but that didn't stop him from knowing exactly what Ron liked.

As Ron worked to clean Harry off, Harry placed small kisses along the base and up the bottom of Ron's shaft. His hands curled up and around Ron's hips and rested firmly on Ron's ass. The lanky boy would never agree, but Harry said that Ron had the girliest rear end of anyone he'd ever dated. Aside from one or two freckles, it was completely spotless. Nothing interrupted the smooth and very soft expanse of skin. It curved perfectly (Harry once joked he should paint it orange and yellow for Halloween instead of carving a jack'o'lantern.)

Harry's hands pulled apart the soft cheeks and teased against the hole between them. Ron gave a whimper and he shook violently. Harry kissed slowly, deliberately, to the spot just below that tight hole and just below Ron's slowly swelling sack. He kissed him there over and over, licking and nipping lightly with his teeth, just how Ron loved it.

At last Ron couldn't handle it anymore. He sat up, and Harry's line of view changed. He felt Ron's pucker under his probing tongue and grinned wickedly. He didn't even care that Ron wasn't paying attention to his member anymore. He freed his hands from where they'd become trapped when Ron shifted and began to stroke the redhead's shaft and grip his balls. Ron howled and dug his fingers into the bedsheets, bucking his hips and clenching every muscle in his body. Ron loved getting rimmed. It was a fact of life, like how the sky was normally blue, and even the simple fact that he was the bottom in this relationship couldn't take the fun out of it. Harry loved it, to, but for different reasons. He got off on Ron's pleasure, knowing there was no one else in the world who could do what he did to him and get the same result.

Finally, Ron gave up on holding back. Every muscle in his body clenched one more time, and he yelled out at the top of his lungs. Harry felt the hot shaft in his hands throb wildly and knew what was going to happen before it did. Hot splashes of warmth landed first on his legs then on his stomach, then finally the last of it lit upon his chest and dribbled into the hallow of his throat, pooling there like molten lava in it's heat.

Ron extracted himself, panting, from his seat. He grinned up at Harry as he finished turning around to face him again. His long tongue darted out sinuously and began to clean the pearly white cum from Harry's body. Harry squirmed slightly as Ron worked his way up, finally getting the big pool right bellow his jaw and adding kisses for effect. Ron sat up again, though this time he was facing Harry's evil grin, not his feet.

Harry pulled his legs up and Ron leaned back against them. He placed his hands on the sides of Harry's stomach, his thumbs sticking out along the defined lines between oblique and abdominal muscle. Like this, they fit perfectly, two halves coming together to make a whole.

Ron bit his lip as he looked down at Harry with love in his eyes. Slowly, like the first time they had done it, Ron lowered himself onto Harry. There was already enough saliva to count for lubrication. Ron's breath hitched in his throat as the tip pressed harder and harder into his hole. Finally, with a little push from Harry, it slipped in. Ron's moans grew louder as he slid further down along the shaft, and his breathing got heavier.

"F-Fuck, Harry," he whined aloud. Harry 'shh'ed him soothingly, and Ron continued his halting progress. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was shaking like a leaf. They had done this many times before, but every time was like the first for Ron. Finally it was all in, and Ron relaxed slightly. He felt split open in the most delicious way.

Harry's hands found the soft curve of Ron's ass again and he slowly lifted Ron up the way he'd come. Ron admired the cords standing out in Harry's arms, the only sign of exertion Harry showed. Again, they reached the tip, and Hary let Ron ease himself back down. They found a rhythm, and it didn't take long to get Ron re-accustomed.

Soon there was no need to go slowly, and Ron delighted in the sounds the bed springs made while he rode Harry. Harry had spread his legs some to give Ron a cradle. His hands remained glued to Ron's rear end. A stream of fractured obscenities flew from both Ron and Harry's mouths. Every once in awhile, Harry would add his own thrust to the rhythm, and Ron's jaw would click shut and through his teeth the most sensual noise Harry had ever heard would escape. A long drawn out moan, tailed by a whine. Ron's short nails were leaving red marks that Harry didn't mind in the least.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry felt his orgasm building. Like a batery charge starting in his toes , it worked it's way up his legs, and finally he lost himself in oblivion. He called out Ron's name, and Ron called out Harry's. Ron came for the second time that morning as he was filled with Harry's seed. They froze completely, unable to move, and then everything came crashing back to earth. Ron collapsed onto Harry, holding him tightly as they both tried to catch their breath.

"I love you," panted Ron.

"I love you, to," replied Harry, and they fell asleep in each others arms.

Unfortunately, Dean walked in moments later to look for Ron and collect Harry, neither of whom had shown up in about an hour and a half. Harry and Ron both blushed as he gaped at them, and Harry realized that his covers were out of reach. Dean backed out, shutting the door behind him.

"Think he'll tell?" asked Harry.

"Think you'll care?" asked Ron in a falsely hurt voice.

Harry laughed and kissed the beautiful redhead. "Not at all."

AN: So here you go, my first serious M-Rated Fic. This popped into my head yesterday morning, and begged a quick right up. I know, shame on me for working on smut like this and not working on ADT. Unfortunately, my computer died, and it's taken me all this time to get a new one. I'm breaking this one in, so to speak. Toodle-oo, folks. (ADT to begin regular updates no later than the end of November.)


End file.
